


are you mine, are you mine

by damnmechanics (emmamanic)



Series: Song fics [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmamanic/pseuds/damnmechanics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>we exist but we're taking it slow- let's just see how this goes</p><p>songfic challenge- who'd have known, lily allen</p>
            </blockquote>





	are you mine, are you mine

-

Sometimes, Clarke wonders what they are.  
She and Bellamy had never really defined their relationship. Never— even back when they were enemies, exchanging short jabs instead of actually talking things out, storming instead of smiling. She doesn’t know how they got here.

Because now Clarke is sitting in Bellamy’s living room and it is five o’clock in the morning and they have nothing left to talk about. She is drifting off, and so is he, her head lying on his chest as her eyes start to close, but then he says he ought to go to sleep and she gets a much better idea, dream-ridden and half formed in her mind.

So she pushes herself off of the couch, ignoring Bellamy’s grumbling behind her - “Where are you going, princess?” - as she stumbles into the next bedroom and falls onto his bed. The covers are warm and they smell like him.

She’s not going to admit out loud that she’s doing this in hopes that he’ll follow, falling onto the bed in a cocoon around her, arms heavy as the blankets pile up, hours giving way to warm sunlight. But he does, of course he does.

-

Bellamy doesn’t know why he feels like this, all of the time. It might have something to do with the blonde next to him (who is he kidding, it has everything to do with the blonde next to him) and so he just smiles into her hair and puts his arm around her as she buries her hands in his sweater.

It’s chilly outside, too chilly for personal space, so his arm pulls Clarke tighter.

"Bellamy.." she whispers, voice soft against his heart.

"Yes?"

"Do you think it’s going to snow?"

And then he laughs, because of course Clarke Griffin will want to talk about the weather, of-freaking-course, and she grumbles and waves one hand at him before pulling it back into the safety of his sweater, where it’s not nearly as cold.

"It might." His voice almost cracks, and he wonders why.

"Let’s watch A Place In The Sun." She says, thick.

He shakes his head, rustling her hair.

"It’s too late, now. Let’s watch it tomorrow. We can just watch a movie-"

"-lie in bed all day." Clarke finishes. "Yeah, that sounds good."

And Bellamy hurts inside. Deep, in his chest, right where Clarke is almost touching, because he is probably in love with her and hasn’t told her. Why hasn’t he told her?

"Clarke-" he starts, and then stops himself, and he doesn’t know why.

"Yes?" She turns her head to him, and he kisses her for the first time. It’s slow, sweet, and it stays with him all night.

-

Clarke jumps every time her phone buzzes, now, because it could be Bellamy. Lexa makes fun of her, but she doesn’t mind because Lexa will make fun of her no matter what and she’d take it any day, because it just means more Bellamy.

And it usually is him, in his short, brusque text-only voice. “Come over,” it says, “My place in ten?”. And then she’s off.

They watch TV a lot. Reality-show garbage, sports, movies from the 1950’s. The static fills up the silence between them that has just enough dignity to be a bit awkward, as he pours her a glass of wine from the bottle he keeps for her.

"Why the hell do you like wine so much?" He asks one day, bringing her merlot in a water bottle because - and he’s told her this many times - if she spills on the carpet, Octavia will kill him (I’ll just get my people to clean it, she’ll say at the time, but accept the bottle with a tongue sticking out).

"I don’t know." She says, taking an appreciative sip. "I like it."

So he tries it and apparently, he does too, because after that they drink wine together while watching HBO and the Food Network.

It’s sweet satisfaction, for some reason, the fact that he enjoys something she suggested. He tastes sweet, now, too, all of the time. Musky, sweet. It’s a win-win.

-

Clarke basically lives in his apartment now, and Bellamy loves it. He should mind, he really should mind, because what twenty-something guy wants a steady girlfriend, but he doesn’t.

And he likes her drawer on the side of his bed, in his nightstand. He likes the small things, domestic things, noticing them. Like when they go shopping together, and she scrunches up her nose while trying to pick out vegetables, and he can’t help but kissing her, right there in the produce aisle.

Actually, he can’t help but kiss her in a lot of places. The pier, the movies, on the freeway at a red light. O thinks it’s disgusting, and that makes him smile, too.  
But they don’t kiss. Most of the time, they don’t kiss. They just exist together, everywhere, all of the time.

The thing is, they still haven’t defined what they are, so he doesn’t know where he should step, why he should say. Then, boom, they’re making out on his couch and he calls her baby, and she stops kissing him and he worries he’s messed up.

But then her eyes get a shade darker and she breathes out. He gulps, swallowing what he wants to needs to say (i love you, i love you, i love you) as he meets her mouth again, harder this time.

-

Clarke really wants to define them.

She doesn’t need to, not really, because she’s happy and that’s okay, but it’s also out of her control so she’d really like to know what they are, so she asks.

"Bellamy, what are we."

It doesn’t come out like a question, and she doesn’t know if she meant it to be. They’re sprawled out on his bed (because she lives in a tiny apartment with two roommates, and as much as she loves Lexa and Raven, girl needs space) with no covers and he’s running one hand over her arms, lazy, and shes exploring the other one.

"I don’t know, princess."

And she’s almost okay with that, but-

"We’re real."

And then she’s okay.

-

They’re a thing. He doesn’t know how it happened, but they’re together, and he’s told Miller, Octavia, and so it’s official. All he knows is that he doesn’t feel nearly as alone anymore.

So he takes her into his arms and kisses her, hard, and they laugh together, and she whispers into his skin-

"Let’s just see how this goes."

And then he laughs because it’s been going, this has always been going, but now it is ever-so-real and he loves her, and she loves him, and they feel it in each other under soft sheets.

"Who’d have known, princess," he tells her, hand running through that blonde hair, a smile under his voice. "Who’d have known."

-

One day, it hits her that she loves him, but she doesn’t bother telling him, because he already knows.

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can send songfics to damnmechanics (on tumblr) if you've got any. If you enjoyed, kudos, comments, bookmarks, all are appreciated!


End file.
